


If you do the cooking by the book

by secondkey



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Sazed is only there in effect, secret santa gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondkey/pseuds/secondkey
Summary: Taako has been a bit messed up since the Chalice, and maybe for a bit longer than that. But he's working on it.





	If you do the cooking by the book

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmazingSuperiority](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazingSuperiority/gifts).



> I was told that 5k is a normal length for a oneshot, but I may not have been reliably informed  
> Anyone else get a little bit of a Howl’s vibe?
> 
> content notices: a little angst, panic attacks, and food

The kitchen was silent, fresh. No flour was wedged into the seams of the wooden panelling, no water damage weathered the wood, the stone countertops were polished and unscratched. Chill lingered in the air. No fires had lived here for a long time, no ovens or stoves had been lit. Yet somehow the surfaces remained clean of dust. Easing the door shut behind him, Taako glanced around, and a quick glance sideways into the arcane fields revealed a gentle charm cast over the room, like a silken blanket, keeping the grime out of the air and off the surfaces. This room had none of the electric lighting Lucas had used in the main domes, and it would be at least a few more sleepless hours before the Bureau's headquarters drifted into sunlight. It didn’t take long to find the flint and tinder- easy, across from the stove so they were close but not in danger of accidentally catching, a sensible system he had often used himself and commended whoever had stocked this kitchen for- and lit up the oil lamps around the walls, and the overhead one in the middle of the room.  
  
Taako put the desk clock he had taken from his room on the island counter and smoothed down the front of his shirt, scowling as he realized it had come untucked from his sleep pants again. He rolled up his sleeves, fixed his hair, though it hadn’t fallen from the perfect ringlets he had encouraged it into less than five minutes ago, and began pulling open drawers and doors at random, all the while sustaining a witty narration that wasn’t at all tinged with nerves, nope. He found the basics: frying pans, pots, bowls, cutlery, a few scales. A knife block tucked in a cabinet. There were no serving dishes, only a set of seven plates, and for some reason, six bowls, an observation for which he paused his running commentary to give the audience time to laugh. He glanced to the side, then behind him, then snapped back to reality, in which he was alone, of course, and resumed his whirlwind tour of the space silently. A couple cups. Other cooking tools. Pushing aside a dilapidated stack of dish towels, he found a pair of oven mitts. Crawling even farther into a floor-level cabinet, he found an apron.  
  
He pulled it out. It was an off-white and dustless, but wrinkled with age. Three broad pockets lined the waist, and small embroidered flowers of red, yellow, and orange patterned the edges. The colors and textures clashed horribly with his classic lilac button-up and soft mauve pants, and the embroidery was frying along the ties, but he pulled it on without hesitation, humming a nonsensical tune he had no memory of learning.  
  
Standing amidst a kitchen practically turned on its head, he turned to the doors he had left untouched: the two tall twins set in the wall by the door. Inside the pantry was surprisingly well-stocked, with shelves of some of his favorite spices, flours, salt and sugar, oils and extracts. There was only a little bit of everything, in sealed brown bags or wax-shut glass jars stamped with their respective names. Taako hummed and picked up a bag of flour, rolling it in his hands. It was soft and not clumping. Another quick glance into the arcane confirmed his suspicions. A preservation spell, only a few months old. If there was magic on even the pantry, then maybe…  
  
Taako put the flour back and sidled up to the ice box, pressing his hand to the doors. They weren’t cold, but they weren’t warm, either. They had no temperature. He pulled the door open, and yes- a quiet snap, a gust of cold air, and a little ripple of magic expanding out- he had just broken the freezing seal upon the box’s contents, revealed to be a baker’s dozen of eggs, a jug of milk, butter, and a variety of vegetables. Taako closed the door and reached next to the box to open the drawer for a recipe book, and hummed when he actually found one inside, then paused. A kitchen set up by a magic user, in the fashion he liked to keep his? Did he have a fan on the base?  
  
...had this all been set up for him?  
  
Taako looked around the unused room, quiet and cold, and turned quickly to page through the recipe book, his commentary turning into muttering under his breath about fools. The room was entirely too cold, now that he thought of it, and he loaded some firewood into the stove, opened the dampers, and singed his fingers using the flint to light it.  
  
The book was a small one, leather-bound and with only a couple recipes. Eggs and potatoes, pasta, sandwiches? Not bad, but far below his usual level. To be expected, though. He stopped and stared down at a page, reading it over once, twice, a third time. The page he held began to tear as his grip tightened, and he cleared his dry throat, figuring he had stalled enough, already. He left the book open on the island to a basic stew, grabbed the biggest pot he could find, and got to work.  
  
 Or at least, he tried to. He probably spent too much time gathering and checking each of the ingredients, and letting the water to boil for two minutes before bringing it down to a simmer, and checking the blades of the knives, but that was all just good practice to have when in an unfamiliar kitchen as inexplicable as this one, of course, and if he rushed and fumbled over the garlic the most, well then, maybe the garlic just deserved that. But after the fifth time his shaking hands made the carrots less than perfect, he scowled and abandoned the hexagrams he was going for and dumped the whole board of boring old circles into the bubbling pot, because who even cares? _Not Taako_.  
  
But soon the carrots were the least of his terrible problems. When he went back to check the recipe again after washing the celery, he left the stalks too close to the stovetop and turned to find they had been charred. After scouring the potatoes he wrangled a rickety mandoline into working order, only to find he had somehow managed to bend the blade. He switched to the other setting, even though it would give him tiny, weird little potato wafers, and who wanted to find something in their stew that had the texture of a wet tissue, and then pushed too hard at the wrong angle and broke the support legs.  
  
With a grand total of two and a half potato atrocities he threw them in the mix anyway, ‘cause at this point what was the point, and checked the recipe again, and returned to pot to find everything had sunken like his very own hopes and dreams because he had forgotten to tend to the fire. He banked the flames down and scooped out some embers, and whoever ate this stew was gonna have to appreciate soggy veggies ‘cause, y’know, Taako was a professional chef, so everything he makes is automatically gourmet, and he doesn’t make mistakes. If the veggies are soggy it’s ‘cause soggy veggies are _in_ right now, ‘cause _Taako’s_ making ‘em.  
  
He swung a spoon through the broth to taste it and blinked to find it tasting a little too peppery. He didn’t even remember putting in pepper. What’s going on? Oh, gods, what did he do this time? What else could he have put in? His tremors grew into full on shaking as he scattered ingredients across the counter, knocking carrot tops and onion peels on the floor and probably launching a bean or two into a corner to remain, unfound, unknown, for the next ten years or so, looking for something, anything out of the ordinary. Breath coming in frantic little spurts he heaved the whole pot off the stove and upended it in the sink, flinching as it splashed up on his face and arms, which trembled under the weight of the pot and the blistering heat of the handles on his palms.  
  
After the brief- ok, more on the side of generous- initial moment of panic had passed, he sniffed and looked down into the pot. It wasn’t pepper, it was just burnt. He had literally managed to burn stew. He, _Taako_ , had burnt _vegetable stew_.  
  
Like, he may as well just hang up his new apron right then and there, what the heck.  
  
Seriously? Was this really happening? He checked the stove and- yep. When he banked the fire he had closed the dampers instead of opening them, a complete rookie mistake, who had ever thought this was a good idea. Taako had always praised himself on his way with heat, which obviously must have come as a reflection of his own natural hotness, and his fire tricks had always been crowd-pleasers. Fire had always been nice to him, but scraping the charcoal off the bottom of a pot with nothing but a bristle brush and your fingertips really gets the message across that your days as tight with fire are gone, and that you now suck.  
  
Taako sank down to the floor and leaned against a grainy cupboard, closing his eyes and turning his forehead into the polished wood. The feeling didn’t do much to distract him from the burning, garlicy smell in his mind, perhaps the smell of burnt soup or maybe the slow, long roast of his favorite 30-garlic clove chicken, perhaps that roaring in his ears was a crowd responding to a particularly rambunctious show…  
      
Taako choked on his own air and pushed his wet palms over his eyes, focusing on _existing_ until the world narrowed down to the static behind his eyelids and his own shaky breathing, easing it out until his breaths became more full. Taako let his hands fall into his lap, staring down at them, and studied his hands- smooth, too smooth, lacking the callouses he once had from all his knife tricks and vegetable wrangling- and began to stare around at the devastation he had wrought in this poor kitchen.  
  
Suddenly, as the void that had suddenly dropped upon his began to lesson, fury lanced through him with a passion. Seething, Taako complained to no one about how mangled his nails would be after this and couldn’t help but grit his teeth at the thought that Sazed would definitely be panicking in the wings at this point, had this ever happened during the show.  
  
Taako left the room before he even finished the thought, the fury withering as fast as it had come, replaced with something more unnamable, more restless and lost. Creeping through their shared living space, he stepped bare-footed out into the hallway, easing the door shut behind him to avoid disturbing Magnus or Merle. Last time he had checked it was still earlier than anyone sane would be awake, but if he had been woken by disquieting dreams of Refuge and the Chalice he saw no reason they might not have been as well.  
  
Refuge. The Chalice. Taako wandered down the corridor and out into the back quad. With all the craziness that was the worm and the prophecies and the freaking goddess they became all buddy-buddy with, not to mention that they kept dying, though somehow that was the least weird thing that went down? Well, suffice to say Taako had a lot on his mind. He didn’t know what to think about a lot of the stuff that had happened in Refuge, but as things stopped happening for a second or two, the thing that stood out in Taako’s memory was, well, the memory. The Chalice had showed him everything he'd ever wanted. Or, well, not everything, but at least that the best case scenario of a pretty terrible situation was in fact true. He was innocent. Was that how it worked? For years he hadn’t been innocent, and now suddenly he was.  
  
But Taako couldn't feel that way. Forty people had _died_. The vindication he had felt upon the Chalice’s vision had faded soon after it had come, chipping away the more he thought about it to be replaced with a tightness in his throat he also didn’t want to think about. Forty people had been _killed_. Forty people, and who knows if they were all innocent or not, but there had been kids and grandparents and people who had come to see him and they still all died. And for what? It hadn't been an accident on the part of an overconfident wizard. No, it had been the deliberate action of his jealous friend. And Taako had made him jealous, being so opposed to even crediting Sazed for all the things he had did while they were on the road together. So in the end it was still his fault, wasn’t it? Striding down the dark hallway, not a soul in sight, he huffed and rubbed his arms, breath fogging before him.  
  
As soon as Taako stepped out into the open air of the back quad he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. A poisonous feeling was curdling in his stomach like spoiled milk, as always did when he remembered what had happened, and he tried with a fervor to smash the thoughts back down. But they just kept popping up, like daisies from the snow. Rude.  
  
Taako hadn’t even thought about Sazed in months. He had disappeared pretty quick after it all went down, and Taako had wanted to not think about that so much that he- well, he hadn’t really thought about it. For being as good as friends as they were, that was odd, right? Taako hadn’t really asked, but Sazed had never mentioned any family. Any friends. Sazed was all Taako had had, but Taako had thought that was true for Sazed as well. Sazed had been Taako’s best friend. All those weeks on the road… Sazed had listened to all his crazy ideas without laughing at him. He had tried every single recipe Taako had invented without hesitation. He had made sure they would be safe and comfortable even when he was exhausted from driving the cart, or sick as a dog, or Taako had been stupid and they’d gotten in a fight. He had been there. Before Sazed, Taako had never had anyone, and Sazed had changed that. He had stayed even though he wasn’t really getting anything out of it, didn’t he? Taako had once thought that Sazed was one the one thing that would stay constant in his life, even while their surroundings, the faces, the fans, everything changed and left. He had thought that Sazed thought the same, or at least liked him as a person. That he was the only one who wanted to stay. Taako’d told the Chalice that he knew Sazed like the back of his hand, but he must’ve not. Gods, Taako had never really known him, had he? Otherwise he wouldn’t have disappeared like that. He wouldn’t have left him. That’s how those sort of things worked, wasn’t it?  
  
Ach, what did Taako know. He would’ve bailed even if they really had been friends, wouldn’t he. I mean, friends are neat but hold yourself first, yeah? That’s what Taako did, anyway. Nobody can stand him forever. Case in point, uh, Sazed?! He got so fed up with Taako that he wanted to… well. Staring off the dark side of the fake moon, looking up at the stars, Taako couldn't help but wonder who Sazed had meant to get. And Taako had never even noticed. He hadn’t wanted to.  
      
“Sir?”  
  
Taako about jumped out of his skin, but managed to disguise it as a melodramatic hair toss as he swung around to see little Angus McDonald, blinking up at him.  
  
“Ah, little dude, what’re you doing up? It’s, uh, it’s…” he floundered, and Angus’ face shifted, eyes sharpening as he glanced over Taako. He picked the thought back up as Angus’ eyes returned to his. “…early.”  
  
“It is currently about 5:45, sir!” Dear gods, was Angus a morning person? Figures.  
  
“I knew that, I knew that,” Taako said, waving a hand in the air, “but when you live as long as I have, you really see just how much time is an illusion, y’know? The only times you need are early, day, and sleep, and ’s all relative anyway, and, uh,” he was rambling and _dang it, he couldn’t do that around the kid, he’s too smart for that._  
  
“O-okay? Sure?” Angus was giving him that look again, the one that reminded you that he was a detective, and a good one, too, but apparently decided to have pity on him. How low had Taako fallen to deserve pity, like seriously?  
  
Angus showed him the book he was carrying. “I was just walking back from the library, I was reading this absolutely fascinating book on the effect of different species of seaweed on gel electrophoresis, ‘cause you use them in agar, y’know? Anyway, I saw you out the window- well, I saw a dark shape but it was definitely you because you have a very distinctive hat- and decided to say hi! So, well, hello, sir!”  
  
There was a pause.  
  
“Well, you said hi,” Taako said, turning back around.  
  
“What are you doing out here, sir?” Angus asked, coming up to stand next to him and bouncing on the balls of his feet.  
  
“Uhhh…” Taako cleared his throat. “Star… gaaazing? Yeaahh.”  
  
“The stars do look bright tonight, sir! My favorite is SGR 0525-66, because it’s a good star!”  
  
With a noncommittal hum, Taako turned around and began striding back inside. Without loosing his pleasant smile, Angus followed him, not missing a beat. Taako tried not to twitch. Shouldn’t he be leaving right around now? Oh hey, kids need sleep, don’t they?  
  
“Have you been up this entire time?” Taako said, gesturing at the darkness around them.  “It’s early as balls, little dude.”  
  
“I lost track of time!” Angus beamed, stepping quickly to keep up, “but I did pass out a couple hours ago, so I’m all good for the day, and now it’s almost 6 and I’m awake! But so are you. What are you cooking?”  
  
“What am I what?” Taako twitched. “What makes you think I’m doing anything? Maybe I’m not even awake. Maybe I’ve been sleepwalking this entire time and you just woke me up!”  
  
“Sir, you’re still wearing your apron,” Angus reminded him, stifling a giggle. Taako sighed.  
  
"Ah, yeahhh, so I am.”  
  
“Also, your fingertips are orange, which is a carrot color, and your sleeves aren’t just rolled back, you’ve pinned them back, and even still they’re a little wet, and there’s some onion skins clinging to your pants, and your hair tied back but falling out of the tie, which means you’ve been working, and-”  
  
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Taako sighed again.  
  
“-and- and and your shirt is untucked, and you’re not wearing any shoes…” Angus’ brow furrowed a minute amount. Taako, scrambled as he was, didn’t roll a perception check high enough to notice. Angus stopped walking and turned to look around the quad, squinting up at the stars. “What were you doing out here, sir?”  
  
“Tell you what, nice chat, but I’mma go bye bye now,” Taako announces, deftly tucking his shirt back in and reaching for the door back into the dorm dome.  
  
“Sir? Is something happening again? Where are the other sirs?” Angus  
      
“Nothing’s happening, Ango, my dude,” Taako said, closing the door behind him. Only four steps down the hallway he heard the door open again, and a pitter-patter of little feet before Angus’ blue hat reappeared at his elbow.  
  
“Are you alright?” Angus asked, tugging at his sleeve.  
  
“Release me, fiend!” Taako cried, pulling his arm back. “I said, shouldn’t you be asleep?”  
  
“You never said that,” Angus said, though he did drop his arm. “And I told you that I slept.”  
  
Taako stopped at a fork in the hallway and waited for Angus to leave. When he made no motion to, Taako pointed down the path to the right. “Your room is that way, remember?”  
  
Angus nodded agreeably, then pointed to the left. “And yours is that way! I’ve never been there, but I know, because I’m a good boy who pays attention to my friends.” And he turned and stared up at Taako with a determined smile. Taako felt his ears twitch. Angus didn’t say anything, though, and in that moment Taako realized he hadn’t felt the curdling in his stomach since the boy had first appeared. Huh. Well then.  
  
“Tell you what,” Taako decided, drawing himself up to his full height to strut down the left hallway. “Since you’re awake ’n all, you get to…”  
  
Angus trotted happily after him, waiting patiently and for once not asking questions Taako couldn’t answer as Taako eased the door to his and the other two’s dorm back open. Angus earned himself further brownie points (he should keep track of those with actual brownies! Except- wait, no,) as he tip toed with him into the kitchen, and then even more when Taako turned to see him positively vibrating with anticipation over his excellently deployed Dramatic Pause, eyes darting around the kitchen to absorb every singular detail. Taako ignored the fact that the ruin he had made was still painted all over the scene, and pulled a chair away from the island instead, sliding it into the corner by the door.  
  
“…sit here,” he finished, nodding as he gestured with a flourish to the stool. Angus leapt to it, plopping down and pulling his knees up to his chest.  
  
“This here, m’dude, is a zucchini,” Taako says, snatching a zucchini off the island and aloft in one hand, gesturing at it with great fanfare.  
  
“I know what a zucchini is, sir!” Angus replies, though he humored him and studied it.  
  
“To prepare a zucchini, you’ve gotta start with washing it, ‘cause there’s no nasties in Taako’s kitchen, no siree,” Taako continued, spinning around and stopping short when he comes face-to-face with the giant mess he had made not long ago. He begins to sweep it away with the hand holding the zucchini, before freezing.  
  
“Oh, let me help you with that, sir!” Angus said, sliding off the stool and scurrying over. “Is there a broom?”  
  
“Ah, ah, ah, no,” Taako said, catching him by the back of his collared shirt, “ain’t nobody gonna be cleaning Taako’s kitchen for him anymore, got that?” He pushed Angus smoothly backwards and unearthed a crate he had found early, dropping a cloth across it before swiping onion skins and carrot tops off of the counters. The pot of failure was still in the sink, and he tried to hide the bulk of it in front of him from Angus, who was protesting behind him.  
  
“I could help! Here, let me wash the dishes!” Angus made for the sink, but Taako pushed him away again.  
  
“Oh no, little man,” he said, overturning the Shame Pot in the crate, “I don’t wanna owe you one, ‘cause I have no intentions to pay up.”  
  
“What? Mister Taako,” Angus protested, “you don’t owe me, I just want to help! You’re very distres- oh, um, well, that is- I just want to help! No owing involved, I promise.” Taako gave him his expert-level side-eye, but sniffed and relented.  
  
“You know what, fine,” he said, fetching the cutting boards he had used and depositing them in the sink. “Wash these. And that pot. And the vegetable peeler. I’ll do the knives.”  
  
“Thank you, sir!” Angus beamed, and the two set to work.  
  
“Alright, small human,” Taako began once the room was clean, regathering ingredients in the center of the room, “what’s the first step in prepping a zucchini?  
  
“You’ve gotta start with washing it!” Angus answered, before pausing. “Um, sir?”  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“Is…” he cleared his throat. “Is this a, a _cooking_ lesson?”  
  
Taako stopped, looking down at the kid, who had picked a zucchini- the same one from earlier, unless Taako was mistaken- up from the island. He looked around at the kitchen, which was warmer now from the fire that he had started earlier, but still, in his hesitation, gravely, unbearably, quiet.  
  
“Y’know what, no,” Taako decided, looking away. “Back to the stool with you. Magic’s ‘lot like cooking, ingredients and all, am I right? But uh, yeah, no.”  
  
“Okay,” Angus said, sounding way to earnest and understanding to be real, gods, what is this kid, handing the zucchini to Taako and perching back on the stool.  
  
“But there shall be food!” Taako continued, like he wasn’t completely freaking out and one thought away from hiding in his room for the next forever. Recipes he hadn’t thought of in years were darting through his mind, and he looked down at the zucchini in his hand and picked one at random. “Y’know, some people say that you need a spiralizer or somethin’ to pizzaz up your veggies, but they’ve clearly never seen the magic _I_ can do with a potato peeler, no pun intended…”  
  
The next hour or so was filled with some of the most flamboyant cooking Taako had ever done in his _life_. Like, including during _Sizzle it up!_. Eggs were whipped in no less than three separate bowls, then launched into the air to land in one. He used three knives to dice up the broccoli, juggling them through the air with flips and spins, catapulting the broccoli into the sauce pan behind him off their flat sides. He used a butter knife to julienne the basil, and yet no edges tore, and he still did it under 40 seconds. Not his best time (35 seconds), but still. The zucchini skin was spiralized, and it was a work of art the likes of which this moon had never seen.  
  
Throughout it all, the butter sizzling behind him never burnt. The peppers blackened perfectly. The recipe book sat untouched on the counter until it was taking up too much space, then Taako surreptitiously returned it to the drawer. The zucchini was cut into precise trillion cuts, each facet accurate to a millimeter. He kept up a steady stream of banter and jokes, and this time they were met with delighted responses from the peanut gallery, a single voice encouraging him on from a distance that he was comfortable with. As a glorious smell began to fill the room, a traitorous undercurrent in Taako’s mind couldn’t help but wonder _how could he forget he loved something so much?_  
  
That’s not to say it was easy. He kept glancing over to Angus, who sat enraptured, then turned away when he realized he was waiting for cheers and applause. He’s not an _audience_ , he hissed to himself.  He didn’t use a single clove of garlic. The recipe he was using technically called for garlic powder, but he didn’t even take the jar from the pantry. His fingers felt clumsy after too long unemployed in this way, he didn’t pretend to make mistakes like he once would’ve. He didn’t _intentionally_ make mistakes to be fixed with a wink and sparkle of magic, or summon anything or manipulate anything from a distance. He didn’t use an ounce of magic at all.  
  
When all was said and done, and the passion of a good cook cooled around him, four perfect quiches sat on the island before him, steaming gently in the warm air. The edges were perfectly browned, the tops perfectly crusted, little round pies of gold. They had turned out a bit bigger than he realized- he was probably unused to the pans- but otherwise, from their bake to the patterns he had laid the surface vegetables in, they were perfect.  
  
“Sir?” With a start, Taako turned his eyes to Angus.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Um,” he was fidgeting on the stool, adjusting his glasses, a display of uncertainty Taako had never seen before in the boy. Finally he seemed to steel himself, and he sat up to look Taako in the eyes with a gaze so full of- of _something_ , that Taako almost took a step back. “Would you please show me some food magic, please Taako sir?”  
  
Taako balked. He saw Angus’ eyes dart to where his ears must’ve flicked back, and he made a show of lifting his hands in the air as though mentally measuring out the pros and cons of the idea, relieved when Angus’ attention turned to that display instead. “Well, I, uh, that’s, hmm.”  
  
Angus wasn’t fooled by the poor bluff. “It’s ok if you don’t want to, sir!” He took a moment to admire the quiches before opening his mouth again to say something else, but it was too late, because Taako had had enough of this.  
  
“No, no, that’s-” Taako sighed, then sighed again for good measure. _Ugh_ , he felt passionately, then made himself think about it seriously.  
  
“Ok, here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said, after a moment of silence. “Basically, magic. Watch and be amazed.” He couldn’t quite make his will bend towards the quiches, so instead, with a couple extraneous finger wiggles and sparks, he flicked his wrists at the scraps of ingredients lying around.  
  
Sometimes magic was a shimmering liquid streaming through his core, sometimes it was the feeling like a third limb flipping over a piece of paper, or turning sideways through a door. Sometimes it was a snapping electricity that popped at his fingertips, or a soft wind from butterfly wings that lifted under him. Here, in this warm room, with a seriously stellar smell diffusing through the air, with a beaming face looking at him with entirely too much pride and trust, the magic manifested like a delicate spider’s web, lacing though the air to pull scraps and peelings across a network of swooping pathways and into the crate. A mixture of basic wind theory, levitation, and prestidigitation that one might call too extra if it weren’t that Taako was doing it, and Taako does what he wants, a fractal lattice of silver light arced through the air, lifting each target with a feather touch that had nothing to do with the lightness that began to glow in Taako’s chest, nor the feeling of warmth that accompanied it.  
  
In the silence that returned as the light of Taako’s spell began to fade, the room did not feel as void as it had before, when Taako first stepped in. Taako studied his hands- smooth, expertly cared-for, lacking the callouses he once had- then propped them on his hips, smirking at Angus.  
  
“How ‘bout them apples, eh?”  
  
“That was incredible, sir!” Angus exclaimed, slapping his hands on the counter to practically launch himself from his seat. “What spell was that? Was that even something in the common curriculum? How many arcane fields did you even just _use_? Did you literally just _invent a spell_? You didn’t even use any incantations or materials- not that you really use those anyway, except maybe could food be considered materials?- but you didn’t seem surprised by the result, and-”  
  
“Okay, okay, reel it in, little man,” Taako chucked, before realizing he had done so and coughed into his shoulder to cover it up. His spell had cleared up most of the room. Basically everything but the dishes was done with, so he cleared away the rest of the cookware as Angus appeared to lose himself in his thoughts, tracing the paths the food had flown through the air.  
  
Taako ignored him as he returned to the island, and stopped for a second when he saw how big the quiches really were. He frowned at the heaping plates. He remembered often cooking too much food during the days of _Sizzle It Up!_ , unused to having so much material to work with, but this was just ridiculous. In his absent-mindedness, he had probably made enough quiche for seven people. What was he thinking, free samples? There was no one who wanted any! What year was his head in?  
  
“Where are the plates, mister Taako?” Angus said, breaking into Taako’s thoughts, apparently done for now with his own.  
  
“You- wait, wait, you _want_ some?” Taako didn’t know why he was surprised. Except- no, wait, he totally did, and suppressed a grimace as his stupid brain began connecting the fading thrum of magic under his skin and the gleaming surfaces of a kitchen.  
  
“Yes, of course!” Angus beamed, positively bouncing at the counter. As Taako didn’t reply, he added, “I mean, if that’s ok?”  
  
“Yes, _of course_ ,” Taako parroted, gesturing at the right cabinet, then reaching over Angus to grab the plates when he realized he couldn’t reach them. “Right.” Of course he wants some. This isn’t… then.  
  
“Thank you, sir!” Angus darted back to the island and settled down with his serving. Before he could take his first bite, though, Taako stopped him with a trembling hand, which he quickly whipped away.  
  
“Ah! Ah ah,” Taako said, turning his involuntary exclamation into a reprimand. “Ch’boy gets the first taste!”  
  
He dug a fork into Angus’ slice, ignoring the boy’s little exclamation, and took a taste. Hm. _Salt’s balanced, the vegetables come through, the egg is the proper texture, all seems good here…_  
  
He kept his thinking posture up for several more moments, chin in his hand and nose in the air. He could hear Angus shifting impatiently, but drew out the minute with dramatic hemming and hawing before finally leveling an inscrutable expression at the boy, who stilled in concern.  
  
“This,” Taako said, and stopped. Waited. Angus gave him a look. “…is the best quiche I’ve ever made.”  
  
“Yes!” Angus cheered, and scooped up a mouthful. Taako hummed decisively and turned to begin cleaning up.  
  
“What in the world is that smell?” A voice from the door mumbled, a beat before the door opened to reveal Magnus, with a similarly drowsy Merle at his heels.  
  
“Why’s that smell?” Merle grumbled. “It’s early’o’clock.” He wiped his dwarven hand across his eyes then groaned when he smacked into Magnus, who had stopped short just inside the room.

“Taako, did you make something?” Magnus asked, a note of wonder in his voice that Taako abruptly decided he didn’t have to deal with because he was too tired to and it was, as Merle said, early as all get-out, and the fact that he had been up for hours despite both those facts was irrelevant.  
  
“I have brought into this world a gift to you mortals,” he said instead, gesturing to the quiches with a twirl and barely catching himself before he added some ridiculous effect, like making them glow or something.

“Taako, this looks amazing!” Magnus said, rapidly becoming more awake and taking a seat next to Angus. “Would you get us some plates?”

“Food,” grumbled Merle in what was either agreement or derision, but he took a seat next to Magnus as well.

“Two plates coming right up,” Taako said, turning to the cabinets. But with a hitched breath he stopped, then continued just under a beat later reach for the dish rag, snapping his fingers instead.  
  
This time the magic was a more familiar feeling- a pop, like an echo of his snap- and the cabinet bounced open to let two plates come tumbling out to roll across the counter, the open air between the counter and the island, and across the island to come to rest in front of the two new members of their kitchen party. Magnus served them up some quiche, and Merle began to look more alive as his slice was placed under his nose. He took the first bite, and when he saw Taako staring, gave him an easy thumbs-up.  
  
Magnus was next, and when he tasted the quiche a weight that had seemed to park itself on his shoulders sometime since Refuge- or maybe during? Taako didn’t know- lifted away, tiny crease lines of stress easing from around his eyes. Taako made eye contact with Merle again, who was sporting the same look of uncertain concern Taako thought was probably on his face, but they both turned away without bringing it up. If Taako had been thinking about Refuge and the Chalice probably a little too much, he realized Magnus had probably been doing it a little bit more, what with his mysterious Julia and whatever the Chalice had shown him that had him so shook.  
  
But whatever it was that was bothering Magnus, here and now? Over quiche, in a cozy kitchen full of three people who were starting to joke and heckle each other over a very early breakfast, here and now was what was important to Taako today, and they could tackle everything else together tomorrow.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Taako was supposed to get progressively snappier and then be mean to Angus but I couldn’t stand to write it so we have this now
> 
> the quiches he made are called rainbow quiches!
> 
> Fun hc: Taako talks to himself a lot because he’s used to someone else being there! :)


End file.
